


The Most Innovative Assassin I've Hired In Years!

by GoneRampant



Category: RWBY, SUPERHOT (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Just a lot of OCs really, This was written more as fight scene practice over a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoneRampant/pseuds/GoneRampant
Summary: A writing challenge I set myself on Spacebattles was "How would Superhot's game mechanic translate into a RWBY sentence, and how much would I rip off John Wick's Red Room fight in the process?"The answers to both questions can be found below.





	The Most Innovative Assassin I've Hired In Years!

Cerise didn't feel the need to question the clients for her jobs. If they were good people, then she never had to worry about them deciding that she had outlived her usefulness. If they were bad people, and they tried that... well, she never had to worry about repeat customers of that type, suffice to say.

Her target this time was in a club known of as the Orange Pentagon, a Faunus/human club that claimed to be a safe haven as run by an Opal Kenway. Seemed that the grapevine had a lot to say about them- that they were a smuggler that provided Roman Torchwick with some of the equipment that was used to cause that ruckus in Vale a while back. Something about a train from Mountain Glen? Cerise didn't really care. There'd been a client, they provided a name and a place within Haven they were going to be at, and provided half the sum up front.

The music hit her like a wall as she walked in, sliding past the groups of dancers that seemed to be gyrating on each other. Beside the bar was a spiral staircase, leading up to a VIP section. The bartender was a human, visibly gulping as she leaned onto the bar opposite him.

"Cerise?" He almost whispered.

She smiled softly in response, her eyes apologetic. "Hey Aqua. Been a while."

"Thought you were in Atlas?"

"Decided to leave. See the sights, meet the people, taste the cuisine... expand my work opportunities."

Aqua paled. "So... you're working tonight?"

"'Fraid so, Aqua. Why not take the night off? Feel like this place isn't gonna have much traffic soon." Cerise nodded her head towards the open door. Behind her, two of the doormen were speaking into earpieces, looking right at the Faunus.

"You... you got it. Thanks Cerise." Aqua almost ran straight for the door leading to the kitchen, which slowly fell back into place. The patrons continued to dance, while Cerise leaned over the bar, grabbed a few bottles. She punched open the nearby register, tossing open a new notes of lien.

As the two doormen, alongside another guard who came down the staircase, came up to her, Cerise finished fashioning together her drink (Leaving the bottles tucked into the chairs beside her), sipping it casually as the three goons came up.

"You're not wanted in here," one of them rumbled. "Leave on your own two feet or we'll drag you out, assassin."

Cerise span her stool around, facing the three hired goons, arms folded behind her. "Gentlemen- and lady-, your boss is a bad man. A man who had no issues providing criminals with equipment that was used to damage the reputation of Vale, and injured countless people."

She shrugged. "I ultimately couldn't care less, but since my client is a generous sort who cares for the wellbeing of the common people like those nice folk dancing over there, that necessitates that your boss be punished for their actions." The three mooks looked at each other.

"So, I offer you three a simple choice. Walk away, seek a better, more prospective future where you live to see your family one more time... or bleed out, here and now in this club, and die with your boss." She grinned at them, her mouth smiling and smooth as butter while her auburn eyes were hard like steel. "Again, I ultimately couldn't care less, but the choice is yours."

"You talk a big game kid," the same goon as the one who spoke before pipped up again, "but you're not seriously expecting us to just let you go up to our boss and let you kill him?" At that, the doormen and their friend burst into loud, raucous laughter.

Cerise sighed. "Let it never be said I'm not a diplomat." she muttered, before springing forward. Her hands spring out, each holding one of the bottles she had earlier used to craft her drink. As she skidded to a stop between the three hirelings, her eyes blinked, shifting gold, before she triggered her Semblance.

And everything... slowed... down. The sound cut out, leaving only a vast echo where it once was booming.

The one on the right had already snapped a pistol out of her holster. The two doormen were caught, effectively, with their pants down, neither having even moved.

Cerise's Semblance was an odd little thing. So long as she didn't move much, such as twisting her torso or flexing her arms, time slowed to a complete crawl. But if she took a step, a jump or something like a roll, time resumed its normal speed. In effect, time only moved when she did. Objects she had a direct part in moving, such as a thrown object or a bullet from a gun, would move forward, though at a much reduced pace.

Both of the doormen faced a similar fate- each received a bottle into the face, the glass of the bottle shattering apart and flying away. Both guards fell, jagged fragments jutting into their eyes. The one guard who had a gun was in the process of raising it, firing a shot at where Cerise's head would have been, had she not moved her head to the side, watching the bullet fly into the bar. She winced in sympathy. It had been a beautiful bar; solid hardwood was pretty rare in these parts.

She took a step, bringing her closer. With time as slow as it was to Cerise, it granted her a few benefits in a fight. Such as knowing the exact point to punch someone's elbow in so that they would drop their weapon. The pistol slipped out of her grasp, and Cerise caught it. She stood there for a second, pressing it against the head of the guard as the realization and horror began to dawn on the guards’ face before firing.

The crowd had started to react to the gunshots, a few already mid-step towards the exit. Cerise blinked again, her eyes reverting to their original colour. The wave of sound hit her again, the bodies all dropped to the ground, and the crowd screamed, running desperately for the exit. Smoothing out her jacket as she rolled up the sleeves, Cerise darted up the staircase, checking the magazine for ammunition before sliding it back in with a resounding click. She reached the top of the stairs, darting along the balcony towards the door leading to the VIP section, shoving past a few people still caught up here. Below, a few suited figures parted the sea of people, dashing for the stairs. The door slammed open, a guard holding up a rifle at the hip before unloading.

Cerise blinked, the bullets slowing down a few inches from her face. Darting to the side, she grabbed one of the sturdier looking tables nearby, slamming it down and crouching behind it before the table began to shake from the impacts. She looked behind her, seeing the guards moving up the stairs. A few blind shots pushed the rifleman into cover in the door, letting her vault over the side. Sprinting for the door, she ducked into a slide as the guards opened fire behind her. Passing the rifleman, she stopped in place, looking behind her. Three guards had made it up (two with pistols, one with a shotgun) and would pass her table in about six seconds, getting a solid line of sight in five. The rifleman was just beginning to react to her, so he was priority number one as she started a mental timer. Her first shot rammed into his kneecap, making him drop to his knees. A howl of agony began to escape his lips before she grabbed another bottle, shattered it and plunged it into his neck.

The rifle slipped out of the man's grasp, and Cerise grabbed the grip of it with her left hand, holding the pistol in her right. Peeking over the side, she took a warning shot at one of the goons, the bullet sliding through the guards open coat as they vaulted the table. Another shot had her ducking back, she tucked the pistol into her waistband (thumbing the safety on, of course. Having Aura was not an excuse for poor gun safety) and looked at the rifle.

She darted out again, throwing the rifle into the nearest guard. Before they even hit the ground, she'd launched an Aura-enhanced kick into their side, sending them flying through the balcony railing onto the floor below. Pulling out her pistol and thumbing the safety, Cerise dashed to the table and vaulted it, kicking right into another of the thugs and knocking them down. A shot slid by her ear and she threw out the pistol, the butt of the gun slamming into the other guard's face. As they began to reel back, Cerise punched him down to the ground before rising and stomping down on the guard's skull. Launching off the body, she landed in front of the last guard, grabbing her pistol out of the air as it bounced off their face. One last shot rang out, and the final guard dropped. Cerise blinked again, and a wave of tiredness passed over her- her Semblance could be taxing if overused, but if she was economic about its usage, she could extend its length greatly.

Strolling past the door guard, Cerise found herself in front of another door. Her Aura flared up again, and she lashed out with a kick, sending the door flying. The inside area was a lavish office- it was likely that more money was put into this one room over the rest of the club. Her target was behind the desk, pale as a sheet but otherwise completely forgettable. Cerise frowned.

"Wait, I know you. You hired me for a job, didn't you?"

He frantically nodded. "Yes, a year ago! Remember, the judge who was looking into my taxes? I followed your rule, didn't go after you- I don't know what I did to deserve this!"

Cerise shrugged. "Well, you went and gave a terrorist organisation explosives which they used to let the Grimm into Vale. That tends to attract the attention of people who can hire me, and for the duration of that time, their morals are my morals. In short, I think you're a bad person who only now is getting punished because you were previously too much of an insignificant insect- to the point where, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, I can't even remember your name and I just read your dossier a half hour ago- to warrant going after."

The target blanched, before his features hardened. "Screw you, bit-"

Cerise blinked, strolling towards the desk and stopping as the target pulled a sawn-off from under the desk. She whistled- it was a finely decorated weapon, with what looked like thorns inter-crossing across the barrels. His finger was tugging on the trigger, the mechanism primed to fire. Cerise darted forward, stopping right in front of the target. She sighed.

"You spent too much on that suit. Now it's gonna get all dirty." She tugged the gun out of his hand, stepping back and admiring the weapon as his expression slowly went from defiant to terrified. Cerise propped the gun under his chin, fixing his hand to the handle and putting his finger back on the trigger.

"You wanted to fire this? Alright then!"

The gun fired, and the target fell to the ground, now sans a skull. Cerise blinked back into normal time and tsk'd. "Told you the suit would be ruined." She shrugged and did a quick look over the office for extra loot (Girl had to eat, after all, and bonus payments were few and far between) and the security footage to wipe before strolling out the door, moving downstairs and slipping out the employee exit into an alleyway. Putting her hands in her coat pockets, she began to walk away from the club, whistling nonchalantly as the police arrived and began to herd the crowds of civilians who had rushed out of the club.

Truth told, it had been a hell of a night for something that took about eight and a half minutes.


End file.
